


Executive Erection

by Mobi_On_A_Mission



Series: Holiday Hookups [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: American Presidents, Crack, F/M, Friends With Benefits, I hope you enjoy it, Smut, This was written as a joke, presidential smut, presidents day smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:46:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29381559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mobi_On_A_Mission/pseuds/Mobi_On_A_Mission
Summary: On Presidents' Day, Emori made sure to honour Murphy's American roots. She didn't really understand American culture, but she got the spirit!
Relationships: Emori/John Murphy (The 100)
Series: Holiday Hookups [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103615
Comments: 6
Kudos: 4
Collections: The 100 Holiday Hookups





	Executive Erection

_Come on over tonight John, I have a holiday surprise_

Murphy’s stomach clenched. It was the day after Valentine’s Day, a day friends with benefits decidedly did not celebrate. It was too couple-y.

_Mmm a sexy surprise?_

_Maybe ;)_

_…_

_I’m having dinner with coworkers but come over after that._

_8pm work for you?_

_I think I can make time in my schedule_

Murphy grinned. Emori was the best. Who cared if it was a Monday? He’d bring a spare change of clothes with him to Emori’s apartment so he could leave for work straight from there if he needed to.

* * *

As 8pm was approaching, he trimmed his beard, pulled on a button up shirt for once in his life, and styled his hair. Then, as a last-minute move, he brushed his teeth. Emori deserved only the best.

By the time he got to her apartment it was just after 8. Maybe another girl would be put off by his tardiness, but not Emori. She damn well knew what she was getting into when she started going out with him, considering they’d been friends for a while first and he never showed up anywhere on time. She’d roll her eyes and say he’s too worried about being fashionably late, but no. He was just naturally that late. His boss had to lie to him about when his shift is supposed to start so he would get there in time (or so he’d been starting to suspect).

He knocked on her door and leaned against the frame, trying to look cool. Sue him.

When Emori opened the door, he almost didn’t recognize her. Gone was her usual cardigans and maxi dresses, even the leather jacket and combat boots she’d wear when it was her days off. No, today she was dressed fancy, with hair styled in an up-do and an old fashioned blue dress covering her body.

“Mr. President.” She curtsied. Emori. Emori curtsied. _What the fuck?_

“Uh- umm-” he stuttered. This was weird, but perhaps even more than that it was kind of hot.

“Please, come this way.” She took him by the arm and led him inside, gaping jaw and all. She nodded to the bag in his hand. “Is that the rest of your outfit?”

“Rest of my- rest of my outfit?”

“Yes.” She cocked her head to the side. “You don’t mean for me to think you are a president looking like that, now do you?”

“Uhh… no?”

“Exactly.” Emori shook her head, tapping his hand to tell him to wait there as she went into the other room to grab something. When she came back, Murphy stifled a laugh. For there in her arms was a top hat. A top hat, like that old president used to wear.

Wait.

Murphy placed a hand on her arm. “Okay Mori, just level with me and tell me what the fuck is going on here.”

Emori giggled. “I told you I had a holiday surprise, didn’t I?

“This is your idea of Valentines’ Day? I don’t mean to kink shame but dude this is a little out of the mainstream.”

Emori laughed a proper laugh. “Not Valentines’ Day, dumbass. That was yesterday. Today is, well, Presidents’ Day! I just thought we’d…” She traced a line across the exposed part of her breast. “...honour the presidents today.”

Murphy raised an eyebrow. “But baby… we’re Canadian.”

“ _I’m_ Canadian, dumbass. You just got here a few years ago. I thought you might be missing home, around the holidays.” Emori’s eyes were wide and true. Murphy could tell this was meant to be a really sweet gesture honouring his culture.

He took her cheeks in his hands and pressed a kiss to her decadent lips. “You are so sweet to me.” He considered telling her Presidents’ Day is barely a holiday and no one but elementary schoolers celebrate it, but he didn’t have the heart after the trouble she’d clearly gone through to make it special for him. “You didn’t have to.”

Emori grinned. “I wanted to. Now. What time is it?” She wiggled the hat in her arms.

“No.”

“Sexy hat time!”

“What the fuck?”

Emori rolled her eyes. “You didn’t bring your own costume, so we’ll have to make do with what I have.” She shot him a devious grin. “Good thing I swiped this hat from the history department at work… Bellamy told me he _didn’t want to know_.”

Emori smiled and Murphy stood there as she put it on his head. “There. Now you’re still a little short to play this role, but I guess it’ll have to do. After all, you didn’t leave me many choices when you didn’t bring your own costume.”

“Who am I supposed to be, Abe Lincoln?”

“Exactly. Ooh! And I almost forgot!” She grabs a pocket watch and silver butter knife out of her dress. “The most important accessories of all.”

Murphy studied the items in her outstretched hands, eyebrows knitting together as he tried to figure out what it all meant. Finally it clicked. “You want me to be Abraham Lincoln: _Vampire Hunter?_

Emori blushed and pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I know a little bit of US history, but I’ll be honest with you a lot of it is from pop culture.”

“You’re amazing, baby. Okay. So if I’m Abe who are you?”

“Mary Todd of course. It would be blasphemy to be anyone else.”

Murphy’s throat ran dry. “Wasn’t Mary Todd his… wife?”

“I guess.” Emori shrugged. “But she was also his lover.”

Murphy leaned in to kiss her, slotting his lips over hers so he could quell the nerves running through his body at the thought of Emori playing his wife. It was just a silly game of make believe, he reminded himself. He and Emori were in agreement: relationships are a lot of work. It was better to be friends who fucked. They were really good at being friends who fucked. Emori’s company was amazing and the sex was amazing; there was no reason to mess that up.

Emori kissed him back, her lips softening under his and opening up to let him claim her mouth. She sighed pleasantly. They only broke apart when they needed to come up for air.

“So how is this going to work, _Mary?_ ” he asked, breath heavy.

“The best way to predict your future is to create it.”

Murphy chuckled against her lips. “Is that a Lincoln quote?”

“Maybe.”

He kissed her again, just a quick peck. “Aren’t I supposed to be Lincoln in this scenario?”

“It seems I know more about U.S. history than you. Why is that?”

Murphy shrugged. “I never paid much attention in history class, to be honest.”

Emori tsked. “Oh, a bad boy?” She teased, shaking her head. “No, I think you’re honest.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “And good.” She kissed his cheek. “Caring.” She kissed his jaw. “And more than anything,” she whispered in his ear, “I think you’re a good man. Good enough to be celebrated hundreds of years later.” She nipped his ear, light as a feather.

Murphy shut his eyes on a shiver. How was this working? Presidents were pretty universally unsexy.

There was no denying Emori was sexy though. She worked her way down his neck, kissing and nibbling as she went. Murphy moaned and brought his hand to the back of her head so he could press her in harder and scent the faint perfume of shampoo in her hair.

“I appreciate you so much, Mister President…” Emori’s words were muffled against his neck. “Let me show you how great you are. I’ll take care of you however you want, just show me what you need.”

Murphy trailed his hands down her back to rest at her waist. He was gonna regret this one in the morning. “Dance with me.” He gazed into her eyes.

She sucked in a breath. “Of course, Mister President.” She curtsied and situated herself in his arms, right hand joining with his left and sending little sparks through him.

They swayed back and forth to the soft music pouring out of Emori’s speaker. Murphy chuckled to himself, and she giggled, biting her lip.

“What’s so funny?”

Murphy shook his head. “I don’t know how to dance. I don’t know why I asked you to.”

“Well I think it’s nice.”

That relieved some of Murphy’s nerves, so he kept dancing with her, careful not to step on her toes as he invented dance moves and spun her around in circles, dress spilling out around her.

Emori landed with her back to him, his arms folded over her chest as their laughter wore out. He could feel her deep breathing through the fabric of the dress, chest rising and falling.

Murphy raised a hand to brush up and over her chest, feeling the rough texture of the fabric before running his fingers along the lace edge of her dropped neckline and teasing past the hem. Emori sighed and dropped her head back onto his shoulder. She kissed his bearded jaw and he reveled in the small expanse of skin bared to him.

After a minute of teasing, Emori said, “Hey Mister President, how about you emancipate me from this dress?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Murphy chuckled, pushing her gently away from his chest so he could get at the laced back of her dress.

It was, mercifully, tied in a simple bow at her waist that Murphy could pull and loosen the ribbons holding it together. He adjusted his hat which had started to slide from its position on top of his head, and started at her shoulders, feeling over the expanses of her soft skin as he eased the dress off of her.

Once he pushed it over her bare hips, the big dress slipped off of her and pooled at her feet. Murphy raked his eyes over her, marveling in her newly exposed body as his fingers danced up her silhouette.

“You are so beautiful.”

“I know, right?” He could hear her grin.

“Damn right,” he growled.

She spun around in his arms and grabbed onto his collared shirt, leading him by the top button he actually had buttoned (which was admittedly lower than it really should have been to be for anything but a sex date). He admired her as she shimmied backward, nipples pebbling in the cold February air. She gave him this devious look that said _I’m gonna torture you and you’re gonna love every second of it_. He didn’t doubt she was right.

Thankfully they didn’t have long to go, because Emori kept on almost tripping over the furniture with her walking backwards. She backed herself up to the couch and ghosted her lips over his cheek before slowly working at the buttons of his shirt.

Her nails scratched against his skin lightly, making every inch of his chest and belly on high alert. She made her way all the way down to the bottom, then pushed his shirt down over his shoulders torturously slowly.

Murphy went to unbuckle his pants, but Emori slapped his hand. “No, Mister President. Allow me. It is your day, after all… It’s best time I showed my appreciation for all your work, isn’t it?”

Murphy nodded wordlessly and let his hands fall to his sides. Emori kissed over his chest, tracing a pattern he couldn’t quite recognize.

“I know it’s the day for you to be appreciated, but you aren’t about to get pleasure for free,” Emori said sternly.

“Oh?” Murphy raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly should I repay you?”

“Recite the lineage, Mr President.” She kissed his chin and pulled back, a wide grin on her face.

“Recite the _lineage?_ ” he parrotted. Emori always had the strangest ideas.

“Maybe not exactly the lineage, you’re right…” Emori ran her nail across his collarbone. “But you see, I don’t know much about US history. You need to teach me the order of the presidents, what they did for your great country, you know? I need to be educated, Mister President.”

Murphy laughed. “Oh you’re gonna make this a test now, are you? I should’ve known this good a fuck would come with stipulations.”

Emori unbuckled his pants and pulled them down his legs along with his briefs. “It’ll be worth it, don’t worry.” She winked.

Murphy’s cock sprang up when she released it to rest against his stomach.

“This is turning you on, isn’t it?” She smiled shyly.

“You always turn me on, Mori.” He swallowed.

“Good.” She regained her confidence and spun them around, pushing him down onto the couch. Murphy bounced a little at the sudden movement, but quickly righted himself.

Emori got down onto her knees in front of him. “Begin.”

Murphy swallowed. “The first one was George Washington-” Emori wrapped her hand around his cock and started lightly stroking him up and down. Murphy lost himself in the pleasure for a second before shaking his head and continuing. “Washington was the first president, yeah. He was a, um, general in the revolution or something, yeah. Real important guy there, people liked him. So they said ‘eh man you should be king’ and he said ‘no I’mma be president instead maybe’ and then they wrote a constitution.”

Emori hummed along and swiped her thumb over the tip of is cock before tracing the same path with her sinfully wet mouth. “And then who was next?”

“The next one was, um, John. John Adams.” Murphy always remembered that one because his name was John and Adam was his second best friend growing up. He told that to Adam, one time, but then Adam got sad because he thought they were best friends.

Emori hummed, licking up and down his length.

“Adams was cool because he was into the whole lawyer thing. Loved lawyers. And the whole _innocent until proven guilty_ thing. He was into that.”

Emori let him lapse for a while. She cupped his balls and licked around the head of his cock, lapping up all the precum that had started to collect at the tip. Finally she pulled back, enough to ask, “Who was number three?”

“Jefferson,” Murphy said with certainty.

Emori opened her mouth wide and took him inside, hands still working his length. He jerked his hips instinctively at the wet heat, and she slapped his thigh while staying latched right on and starting to suck.

“Thomas Jefferson.” Murphy focused himself back on his task. “All I remember about him was he bought a shit ton of land. Like a _shit ton_. Called it the Louisiana Purchase but fuck if Louisiana wasn’t big back then.”

Emori giggled around his cock. Murphy pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and petted over her hair, but she pulled off with a pout.

“No,” she said. “No hands, Mister President. _I’m_ pleasuring _you_ , you don’t get to touch. Hands to your sides, c’mon.”

Murphy sighed reluctantly but played along. Emori immediately went back to suckling at him, humming with contentment. Fuck if she wasn’t cute. How could she be so cute doing something as filthy as sucking cock? It was objectively not a super cute thing, yet he looked at her down there and his heart was clenching. That had to be some sexual side effect, right? It just meant the sex was hot. Yeah. That’s what it was.

Emori stilled and looked up at him expectantly.

“The next one was…” Fuck. Murphy was blanking. His eyes grew wide as he thought. There was too much on his mind—how hot Emori was making him and that stupid feeling in his chest and- yeah. It was a lot. “James Madison!”

Emori rewarded him for that one by pushing forward so much his cock brushed her throat. Murphy cried out. He wanted to fuck up into her so bad, but he knew that wasn’t what she wanted.

“He looked really creepy. And he was creepy I guess, in a way. He started a war.”

Emori pulled off of him, drooling a bit and wiping it off on her arm. “You’re starting a war between my thighs, Mister President.”

Murphy bit back a laugh at her voice. She probably meant it to sound sexy, but it was corny as all hell.

“You sure know a lot about history.” She raised up from her knees and straddled him on the couch, rubbing her firm nipples against his chest. “Maybe if I got a little president in me I could know history too.”

Murphy leaned in to kiss her jaw. She never said anything about not being allowed to do that, right?

She giggled, pulling back and shaking her head. “You’re such a naughty president, aren’t you? Gonna get yourself impeached one of these days.”

“That’s for presidents who break the law, baby. Did I break the law?”

“Basically.” Emori shook her head, reaching behind John to fish a condom out of the couch cushions. She was such a goddess, hiding important items around her apartment.

She tore the condom open and sheathed it over Murphy’s cock. As if it were even possible, he got harder at the thought of being inside her finally.

“Who was the fifth president?” she asked when the condom was on all the way, mouth wet on Murphy’s neck and pussy lining up at the tip of his cock, making him shiver.

“James- James Monroe!” he groaned.

“Okay, Mister President.” She sank down, moaning.

Murphy moaned along with her. Emori’s pussy was clinging to him like a lifeline, thrumming even as he hadn’t even prepped her before she impaled herself on his cock. He didn’t even get to calm down before she was moving, circling her hips on him. He knew this part was more for herself than it was for him—after all he was much closer to the finish line. But watching Emori grind herself on his cock was erotic in and of herself. The way she moaned, chased after her own pleasure with him as her object, throwing her head back and running her hand over her breast and massaging it where he yearned to touch her, the expanse of her soft golden skin running all the way down to the soft curve of her belly and further, to the soft curls reserved for only his eyes and the place where they merged, hypnotizing him with every thrust… he could lose himself in her for hours.

“Who was number six?” she asked all too soon, beginning to rise up and down on him.

Murphy’s brain shorted out. Fuck. He hoped they never got this far. In school he had to memorize the first five presidents, but he never bothered to learn the sixth. He had no idea.

“I don’t know,” he choked out.

“That’s a shame,” she said. And just like that, she pulled her decadent pussy off of his cock and sat instead at his thigh.

Murphy whined, but she didn’t give a fuck. Instead, Emori grinded herself against his thigh, purposefully avoiding touching his cock as she pleasured only herself.

She whispered in his ear, “Once you remember, I can put you back in me and make you come so well…” As it was, the wetness of her pussy just squelched against his bare thigh.

Murphy wracked and wracked and wracked his brain, but nothing came up. He was desperate, hard and needy, probably just seconds from spilling in his condom if Emori would just get back on him like she clearly wanted to with all the needy grinding she was doing against him. Fuck it, she wasn’t even from the US. She didn’t know who the sixth president of the United States was, right?

“Number six was… I remember,” he lied. “It was Roosevelt. Yeah, FDR they called him.”

Emori smiled up at him, relieved in her ignorance that he was not number six. “Good job, Mister President. Now you get your reward…” She lifted her hips, already shaking a little bit, and re-impaled herself on him. They moaned in unison this time.

Emori did her best to fuck him hard and fast, just the way she knew he liked it, but her legs were growing weak and she couldn’t do it as well as he craved.

“Permission to use my hands?”

Emori’s head fell to his shoulder, and after a few heated seconds she nodded into his shoulder.

Fuck yeah. Murphy set his hands on her ass immediately, groping the gentle curve as he took over the force of their movements, moving her up and down on him hard and fast, rubbing her cervix against his cock every few strokes to make her really feel it.

“Mister- fuck! John! John!” Emori screamed out.

Murphy was secretly proud of the way he got her to drop the act. When his top hat fell off he didn’t put it back on, instead grabbed it from the couch next to him and threw it across the room. He leaned forward, taking one of Emori’s nipples into his mouth. She moaned again, and it urged him on.

Murphy held out for as long as he could, but eventually he could do nothing but pull Emori all the way down on him, wrap his arms around her, and let his cock twitch inside her.

She wiggled in his arms, moaning. When he regained his mind, he could tell it was because she was close and needed to be thrown over the edge too.

He lowered her onto her back next to them, disposed of the condom as quickly as possible to the garbage can conveniently placed under the side table, and hovered over her.

Emori was absolutely beautiful. Flushed and writing, deep eyes wide and needy and so very _sweet_ it made his heart twist up in his chest. He pushed the feeling down.

He tweaked a nipple, making her giggle and squirm.

“C’mon Mister President… Finish me off, why don’t you?”

“With pleasure.” Murphy kissed down her stomach and down to her between her legs. He dug his hands in the soft skin of her thighs and feasted on her pussy, her juices dripping out of her. She reacted to him immediately and fully, canting her hips into him and throwing an arm over her shoulder, gripping onto the armrest of the couch.

He focused in on her clit, licking and sucking it as he worked two fingers into her to stroke at her G spot.

“Yes! Yes! Fuck me Mister President!” Emori moaned. It was a strange thing to moan, but apparently if he’d learned anything today it was that Emori had a very specific kink.

After a couple minutes she started spasming, pussy clenching and letting a fresh coat of slick out onto his fingers. Murphy let up, lapping gently at her clit and pulling his fingers slowly out of her. He left one last kiss over her curls, scratching against his skin, and rose up to kiss her.

Emori always seemed to enjoy the taste of her own cum. Murphy loved it, how she always seemed thirsty for more and would moan and thrust her tongue into his mouth to get an extra taste of it. That’s exactly what she was doing today. Murphy gave himself over to it, delighting in her attention. He loved the feeling of Emori against him, the sight of her beneath him, beside him, above him. He loved talking to her and playing stupid games with her and taking car rides with her and arguing over things with her and-

Fuck. He loved Emori, didn’t he?

It was obvious, really. It had been that way for a long time. But he’d been in a relationship, and then she had, and somewhere along the line he’d stopped thinking about how he felt about Emori. It was a little harder to ignore now though, now that they were lying on the couch together in the middle of February celebrating a holiday no one but elementary schoolers and government workers in the US even stopped to think about for more than two seconds.

He loved Emori, yet he was a million miles from being in a relationship with her. They were just friends, just friends who fucked. She texted him when she was horny, he called on her when he wanted someone to scratch the itch… but if he were honest with himself, it was always more than that. He loved fucking her, sure. She was amazing and amazingly hot and she was kinky as fuck and he was still never quite up to her level of libido—even if everyone he’d been with before couldn't quite keep up with him. No, Emori was both a sex goddess and a plain goddess. He wanted her, in every way.

When their kiss died down, Murphy sighed, stroking her face in his hands. He’d tell her at some point, how he felt about her. But maybe after that she’d never want to see him again. So for now, he was going to take what he could get and soak in the feeling that now had a name.

 _Love_. Here in Emori’s apartment, in Emori’s arms, basking in the afterglow of a mind-blowing orgasm at the hands of his greatest love, Murphy could get used to this. He’d be one lucky fuck if he could convince Emori to want him back.

He kissed her again. “Can every day be President’s Day?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends,
> 
> Well that was something else lololol you best know I came up with this idea as a joke like two months ago and no one believed I'd actually go through with writing it but I did. You're welcome. Oh yeah. This is my second smut piece for [The 100 Holiday Hookups Challenge](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/t100holidayhookups). I'm having a lot of fun with this lol.
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments! You can also find me on tumblr [@mobi-on-a-mission](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mobi-on-a-mission).
> 
> Kisses!  
> -Mobi <3


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